


The Birthday She Wanted

by GracefulLioness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Co-workers, Crush, F/M, Hermione's birthday, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 12:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracefulLioness/pseuds/GracefulLioness
Summary: Going out and drinking in a crowded pub wasn't exactly what Hermione had in mind for her birthday. When the night goes south quickly, who better to step in and turn it around than her co-worker and crush?Written in honor of our favorite bookworm's birthday.





	The Birthday She Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [The Birthday She Wanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060950) by [dullforest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dullforest/pseuds/dullforest)

> September 19th is Hermione's birthday, so here's a little one-shot to help you celebrate! I hope you enjoy!  
Many thanks to the best alpha/beta, BiscuitsforPotter!
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr! graceful-lioness

“Alright, so seven o’clock at the Leaky Cauldron? Invite whoever you want. We’ll all start there and then just see where the night takes us,” said Harry with a gleeful smirk. The tall, bespectacled Auror was currently blocking the entrance to Hermione’s cubicle. If he didn’t leave her alone soon, not only would the entire floor know about her birthday, but her boss, Royden Poke, would chastise her for wasting time. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, honestly, we don’t need to make a big deal of my birthday.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course we have to make a big deal of it. It’s not every day you turn twenty-four! Plus, it’s Friday, so you can’t even use the excuse of having to work tomorrow.” 

“Yes, fine. Seven o’clock at the Leaky Cauldron. I’ll be there. Now please let me get back to work!” She placed her hands on his chest and pushed hard. Though he was much bigger than she was, he humoured her by stumbling backwards with a laugh. 

He took a few steps away before turning back, the smile on his face slipping slightly. “Oh, Ron invited Lavender,” he said quietly. “Is that alright?” 

Hermione felt her cheeks redden as her stomach plummeted. “Yes, that’s fine,” she said shortly. She and Ron had broken up over a year ago. It wasn’t that she had a problem with him dating someone. It wasn’t even that he was dating Lavender Brown. It was that he was _ happy_, and she was _ alone _. 

“Are you sure? I can tell him not to bring her,” Harry offered. 

If Ron had to go back and uninvite Lavender it would make Hermione look sad and petty. Worse, it would make it seem as if she weren’t over him. She couldn’t have that. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione sang lightly, waving him off. “The more the merrier.” 

Harry smiled and bid her goodbye before making his way back to the lifts. 

Turning back to her desk, Hermione busied herself with a few files that needed organizing. There were only about twenty minutes of the work day left before she could go home. In reality, she had been hoping for a nice, quiet evening in. Perhaps just having Harry and Ron over for a drink and then going to bed early to read a good book. She knew she’d have a good time once she was out, but she wished that someone had asked her what she _ wanted _ to do for her birthday instead of taking it upon themselves to plan some big hoorah. 

At five o’clock, she put the files she had been working on in her cabinet and locked it up before rising from her chair and grabbing her bag. 

“Birthday plans tonight, Granger?” drawled a voice from the next cubicle over. 

Hermione’s heart quickened as she saw Draco Malfoy leaning back in his chair to peer at her from the opening of his workspace. _ Merlin, why did he have to be so damned good looking? _ He smirked at her, and she knew he had heard her conversation with Harry earlier. 

She smiled and pulled her beaded bag up unto her shoulder. “Just drinks with a few friends.” He swiveled in his chair to face her properly, and the next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “You should come!” 

_ Damn. _Why had she said that? “You know,” she added in what she hoped was a casual tone. “If you want to. If you don’t have plans. It’s really not a big deal.” 

Draco smiled, and Hermione felt her heart flutter. They had grown to have an easy friendship over their three years of working together. They’d had a rocky start, but once they put their contentious past behind them and agreed to be civil, they realized how much they had in common. Then, after her relationship with Ron had ended, it was only a few months before her feelings for Draco grew into something much deeper. 

“I’ll try to make it,” he said with a flirtatious smirk. 

Hermione knew better than to take his harmless flirting seriously. She had seen him with the other women in the office enough times to know that it was just the way he talked to women. Confident, charming, inviting. 

“Great. Er, at the Leaky Cauldron at seven,” she said somewhat breathlessly before heading for the exit, finally feeling a twinge of excitement about her birthday. 

~*~*~

Hermione stood in front of her mirror at a quarter ‘til seven. She tilted her head side to side, examining her reflection with scrutiny. Was she trying too hard? The pale blue dress she wore clung to her waist and hips before flaring out to just above her knees. The neckline scooped low across her chest, exposing her collarbones. This was her favorite dress, and perhaps some people might find her attractive in it. She hoped they did. Or rather, she hoped one person in particular found her attractive in it. 

She smoothed out the bodice of the dress before turning her attention to her face and hair. She had considered using Sleekeazy’s, but thought that it might be seen as trying too hard. Afterall, Draco knew what her hair looked like. It was silly to try to tame her hair, especially when the potion was so expensive and she had to use so much of it. All the same, she had decided to pull it back into an elegant updo. She’d done some light make up that brought out her eyes, but she refused to cover her freckles. 

Overall, she thought she looked quite nice. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered anxiously as she grabbed her wand and her beaded bag before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. 

The dark pub was more packed than she’d ever seen it. Witches and wizards pushed past each other to reach the bar. It was so loud that when she finally heard Ginny calling her name, the redhead had nearly reached her. 

“Come on,” Ginny called over the din. “We got a table.” 

Hermione followed Ginny through throngs of people to finally arrive at a small high top table near the bar. At the table sat Luna, looking at the ceiling, her eyes darting around as if following invisible birds, and Lavender, her chin resting on her hand, looking thoroughly miserable. 

“Happy Birthday!” greeted Luna, her airy voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd. 

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled as Ginny pushed a drink into her hands. “Where are Harry and Ron?” 

“They got called into work,” Lavender replied miserably. 

Hermione’s heart sank. They would miss her birthday celebration—the one that _ they _ had planned. 

“They feel really awful about it. There was some kind of emergency,” Ginny explained. 

Hermione frowned and took a sip of her firewhiskey, feeling the amber liquid heat her throat. She winced before taking another sip. 

“But it’s still your birthday!” Ginny exclaimed with a grin. “We’ll just have a girls’ night! It’ll be great!” 

Hermione looked around the bar, searching for a glimpse of white blond hair. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. After all, he hadn’t said that he would be coming. Just that he would try. He probably hadn’t meant it. People say things like that all the time just to be nice. 

Shaking her head, she turned back to the three witches at the table. Ginny was smiling at her expectantly, clearly in the mood for a crazy evening out. Luna’s eyes were on her, but not entirely focused, her mind clearly elsewhere. Lavender was obviously only here because Ron had dragged her along. She probably only stayed because she assumed it would be rude to leave. This group was not at all what Hermione had envisioned for her special day, but it would have to do. 

“Yeah, a girls’ night!” she mustered with feigned enthusiasm, hoping that her disappointment wasn’t obvious. 

The three girls grinned and held up their glasses. Hermione clinked hers against theirs and then threw the amber liquid back in one big gulp. Ginny let out an excited squeal at Hermione’s drinking, drawing several sets of eyes to their table. 

“Another round, ladies?” The bartender had wandered over in their direction, his dark eyes on Ginny. 

The redhead gave him a dazzling smile. “Please.” 

The bartender winked at her and then returned to the bar. 

“He’s cute,” Ginny commented, her eyes on his retreating backside. 

An odd feeling passed through Hermione. Harry and Ginny had decided to take a break a few months ago. Even though Hermione knew that, it was still strange to see Ginny flirting with men. It felt like a betrayal. She knew that Harry and Ginny would get back together eventually, so she just tried to hold her tongue in the meantime. 

“Hermione, how’s work?” Luna asked. 

“It’s going well. I heard that one of the higher ups might be leaving soon, so I’m thinking of applying for the position,” Hermione replied. 

“You’ll definitely get it. Your aura has a golden hue today. That means great things will happen in your near future!” Luna responded. 

The bartender returned with their drinks, and Hermione picked hers up quickly, hoping that the alcohol would hit her soon. 

~*~*~

After an hour, Hermione still wasn’t having any fun. Ginny had gone to get another round of drinks several minutes ago, but had never returned. She was leaning across the bar, flirting with the bartender, laughing loudly every few minutes. 

Lavender had spotted a friend across the bar and, grateful for the excuse to ditch the miserable excuse for a party, had promptly abandoned Hermione and Luna in favor of more desirable company. 

Luna was talking at great length about some magical creature that Hermione was fairly certain didn’t exist. Every now and then she humoured the blonde with an amused hum or nod. 

A large man attempted to squeeze between their table and the one next to it and succeeded in jostling Luna roughly. The blonde’s arm jerked and her fizzy cocktail ended up spilling down the front of Hermione’s favorite dress. 

Hermione gasped as the icy liquid soaked through the silk. 

“Oh, Hermione, I’m so sorry!” Luna apologized, grabbing a napkin and trying to clean up the mess. 

“It’s fine,” Hermione choked, her throat getting tight. “I’ll just pop to the loo to clean up.” She stood up and made her way toward the little hallway which held the lavatories, pushing through groups of witches and wizards having a far better night than she. 

She knocked on the ladies room door and was met with a slurred, “Just a minute!” With a sigh, she leaned back against the wall. Before she could stop them, the tears came.

So much for the perfect birthday she’d been promised. She had told Harry not to make a big deal out of it, but he had insisted on making her twenty-fourth birthday special. For all their hype, she certainly had not expected to have a boring evening in a crowded bar, be abandoned by her friends, listen to Luna Lovegood talk about wrackspurts, and have her favorite dress ruined. 

She looked up into the mirrored wall across from her. Her hair was a little frizzier than it had been when she put it up, her make up was running under her eyes, but the worst of it was the deep red stain adorning the light blue silk of her dress. 

“Sorry I’m late,” came a gentle voice. 

With a gasp, she turned to see Draco Malfoy smiling at her. “Draco,” she said breathlessly. “Hi.” 

“Some party,” he remarked, settling across from her. 

Hermione choked out a laugh. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to her. She took it from him and wiped her eyes, using the mirrored wall to try to clean up the smudged mascara under her eyes. “This is what I get for wearing make up,” she joked darkly. 

“You look nice,” said Draco. 

Hermione frowned at him. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Lie to me. I’m a disaster.”

Draco chuckled, rolling his eyes. “You’re not a disaster.”

Hermione scoffed and gestured wildly to herself. 

“Your hair looks nice,” he commented. 

Hermione shrugged. “Thanks,” she grumbled. 

“And this dress…” Draco waved a hand towards it. 

“It’s ruined,” Hermione cried, new tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Are you a witch or not?” Draco laughed, pulling out his wand. With a quick spell, the horrible stain faded away and the fabric dried. 

Hermione took a shuddering breath. “Thanks,” she mumbled. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and tears continued to fall. 

“Come on now,” Draco sighed. 

“Tonight’s been a disaster. Harry and Ron had to work at the last minute. Ginny abandoned me to go flirt with the bartender,” she gestured towards the bar. “And then my dress…” 

She wiped her eyes, willing her tears to stop. He was here! He had come! She should be happy! 

“I’m sorry,” she warbled, looking down at her shoes. “I just wanted tonight to go well because, well, it’s my birthday! And I… I have this _ stupid _ crush on you.” 

She hadn’t meant to say it. Perhaps the alcohol had affected her more than she’d initially thought. But it was out now, and there was no taking it back. 

She chanced a glance at Draco, her cheeks burning. His eyes were on hers, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad you said that,” he murmured. 

“Really?” she questioned, eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah, well, I kind of thought… it’s nice to know for sure.”

Either from the tears or the alcohol, Hermione hiccuped. Her face burned with humiliation and she buried her face in his handkerchief. She had better get that promotion, because there was no way she’d be able to face Draco in the office after this. 

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked suddenly. 

Hermione looked up in surprise. “What?” 

“I only ask because… well, it looks like you’re not having the best time at the Leaky tonight. Do you want to go somewhere else? I know a quiet bar a couple of blocks over. I’ll buy you a drink.” 

Hermione glanced at her own reflection. Her makeup was running badly and her eyes were red and puffy. As much as she longed to go with him, the thought of going anywhere else in public filled her with dread. “You know,” she sighed. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight. Harry and Ron planned this whole thing and then didn’t even show.” 

“What did _ you _ want to do?” he asked. 

Hermione shrugged. “I wanted to have a couple of friends over to my place for drinks and a nice night in.” 

Draco smiled. “Let’s do that then.”

Her heart fluttered. Draco wanted to go to her flat. Sure, he probably only meant to stay for a drink, but he hadn’t run away after her confession. Perhaps there was hope after all. Best of all, he wanted to do what _ she _wanted to do, which was more than she could say about any of her friends today. 

“If you still want to…” he continued when she didn’t respond. 

Hermione felt herself nod. “Sure,” she squeaked, her heart racing. 

Draco gestured to the exit and she left the narrow alcove leading to the loo and back into the crowded bar. He placed his hand on the small of her back as they navigated the tables and people side by side, and Hermione could feel the heat from him radiating through her satin dress. 

Hermione saw Ginny still at the bar talking to the bartender, and Lavender chatting with her friends in the corner. Even Luna had found someone to talk to—an eccentric-looking young man with thick glasses and blue hair. 

None of them would miss her presence tonight, Hermione decided as she and Draco made their way to the exit. 

Ginny looked up as they passed her and, after a brief look of shock at seeing Draco with her friend, shot them a smirk so wicked that Hermione felt her face burn with embarrassment. 

Hermione hurried through the doors and into the brisk outside air of Diagon Alley. 

“Do you live close?” Draco asked, keeping his hand on the small of her back. “Or shall we apparate?” 

Hermione felt dizzy in a way that she couldn’t blame on the alcohol. “We should apparate,” she breathed as the cool breeze whipped around them. 

He reached up and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Alright. Lead the way,” he murmured, taking hold of her hand. 

Hermione forced herself to focus on her destination and not on the feel of his fingers interlaced with hers. With a deep breath, she apparated them both to just outside her flat building in North London. 

She fumbled with her keys in the lock of her door, all the while feeling his eyes on the side of her flushed face. Once inside the flat, she waved her wand to turn on the lamps and set her beaded bag by the door. 

“Wine? Firewhiskey?” she offered as he closed the door. 

“Firewhiskey, please,” he replied, his grey eyes surveying her flat with interest. 

Hermione hurried to the kitchen and returned with two full glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey. He was standing at her bookshelf, perusing the titles curiously. Setting the bottle on the coffee table, she moved to join him at the shelf to hand him his glass. She sipped from her own glass, feeling the liquid warm her throat and loosen her tongue. 

One of his pale fingers came up to run along the spine of Enchanting Eternity by Emmaline Aldridge. “Have you read it?” she asked. 

“No, I’ve been meaning too.” He plucked it from the shelf and flipped open the cover with one finger on the hand which held his glass. “This is signed,” he remarked in surprise, noting the personalized inscription inside the front cover. 

“Yes. She came to Flourish and Blotts last spring and I was lucky enough to go and meet her. You can borrow it, if you’d like.” 

Draco shook his head. “I wouldn’t feel right borrowing a book of such value.” 

Hermione smiled. “It’s alright. I wouldn’t offer to Harry or Ron—not that they would want to read it anyway—but they wouldn’t handle it carefully. But I trust you to take good care of it.” 

His eyes snapped to hers and something flickered behind them that Hermione couldn’t quite place. His lip twitched and he closed the book and replaced it on the shelf carefully. “Perhaps another time. Thank you.” He walked away from the bookcase to look at the photos on her mantle. “You have a lot of photos,” he remarked. 

Hermione nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her to see it. 

“Are these your parents?” He asked, pointing to a photo of her and her parents, which had been taken last Christmas. 

“Yes,” she said nervously. She knew that his prejudices were a thing of the past, but discussing her muggle upbringing with him was not something that had ever happened before. 

“Strange how the muggle photos don’t move,” he said with a shrug. 

Hermione chuckled. “I always thought it was strange that the magical photos _ did _move.” 

He turned to her with a smirk. “Difference in perspective I suppose,” he quipped before walking over to sit on the couch. 

Hermione’s feet carried her over to the couch and she sank into it, careful to keep a respectable distance between them. 

“I like your flat,” he said before sipping from his drink. 

“Oh,” Hermione blushed. “It’s… small. I wasn’t supposed to be here this long. It was just supposed to be a temporary place after Ron and I split, but then I renewed the lease and…” she rambled before trailing off. 

This was awful. How many times had she fantasized about having him in her home? And now that he was here she had no idea what to do. 

“No, it’s perfect,” he countered gently. “It’s very… _ you _.” 

A fluttering in her stomach, a racing in her heart. Hermione smiled and drank from her glass to keep herself from launching across the couch at his lips. 

“I got you something,” he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket and producing a small box wrapped with a bow. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she protested as he placed the box in her hands. 

“I know. But it’s your birthday, and I wanted to. It’s one of the reasons why I was late to the Leaky. The man who wrapped it up for me had to have been a hundred and fifty at least and he insisted on doing it by hand.” 

Hermione set her glass of firewhiskey on the table and untied the bow before gently tearing the wrappings away from the small velvet box. 

“I thought about getting you a book, but I didn’t want to risk getting you anything you already had. Judging by your collection of books over there, I made the right decision,” he smirked. 

Hermione laughed. “That’s nothing. You should see how many I have in the bedroom.” 

Draco’s cheeks went a little pink. “Maybe you can show me some time,” he said, his voice was dark and heavy with unspoken intention. 

All of the air rushed from Hermione’s lungs. If she had thought that his comment was innocent, his eyes convinced her otherwise at once. There was a fire behind them that she had seen before. It had been there at Hogwarts when he was diving for the snitch. It was the same look he had in the Wizengamot while he was passionately arguing a case. And now he was looking at her with that same fierce passion and determination, and she couldn’t breathe. 

He blinked, eyes flickering back to the box in her hands. “Open it.” 

“Right,” she stammered, pulling the lid back to reveal a small periwinkle pendant on a delicate silver chain. She had never imagined that he would give her jewelry. A necklace, no less. It was so… romantic. “Oh,” she sighed. 

“They had a red one,” he stated with a small shrug. “But it’s strictly against my upbringing to spend money on anything in the Gryffindor color. Then I remembered what you wore to the Yule Ball and thought you might like this one.” 

“It’s beautiful,” she assured him. “It matches my dress.” 

His lips twitched in a brief smile. “So it does.” 

“Thank you,” she murmured, her finger tracing the delicate jewel. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied. 

Mustering up her courage, she leaned across the space between them to place a light kiss on his cheekbone. “Do you mind?” she asked as she pulled away, gesturing to the necklace. 

He nodded and took the box from her, carefully removing the necklace and undoing the clasp. 

Hermione turned away from him and brushed the errant hairs from her updo away from her neck. He placed the chain around her and clasped it, and Hermione shivered as his fingers ghosted over her shoulders as he pulled away. 

She turned back around and glanced down at the pendant resting against her sternum. 

“The feeling is mutual, you know,” he said evenly. 

Her eyes snapped to his. “What?” 

His cheeks were slightly pink, and he finished his glass before continuing. “Earlier, when you said you fancied me…” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to tell you that I feel the same way.” 

“Oh…” Hermione muttered, her brain trying to process the information he had just given her. 

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow at her and she blushed crimson. 

“Oh,” she repeated with a grin. 

Draco chuckled and shook his head as he set his glass on the coffee table. In the next breath, he was leaning in until his mouth was mere inches from hers. One hand snaked to the nape of her neck while the other trailed across her waist. 

She tilted her head up and fluttered her eyes closed, anticipating a kiss that did not come. When she opened her eyes again he was smirking down at her. Fear gripped her. Was this a trick? Perhaps this was all some evil plot to humiliate her. She was a breath away from pushing him away and demanding that he leave when he laughed again. “Don’t overthink it, Granger.” 

And then his mouth was on hers, and her doubts were far away. 

He pulled her close by the nape of her neck, his lips moving against hers confidently. She moaned against his mouth and felt his grip on her waist tighten in response. Growing bolder, her hands inched up, pressing against his chest and clutching his shirt. 

He gave a little tug, and she allowed him to lift her into his lap where she straddled his legs. One of his hands travelled down, where it crept under the skirt of her dress to palm her thigh. Her hands moved to the side of his face as she kissed him deeply and pulled him closer. She removed her lips from his to kiss across his jaw to his neck, and he moaned as she rolled her hips against him. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his fiery touch travelling up her waist to guide her movements. One of his thumbs grazed the underside of her breast and she shivered. 

“Why didn’t you ever make a move?” she asked breathlessly as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, laving kisses there. 

His hand moved up again, palming her breast with more certainty now. “Didn’t think you’d ever want me.” 

She sighed and threw her head back as he dragged his mouth across her collarbone. “I want you,” she moaned. 

Draco’s hips bucked up against her and she gasped. With desperate hands, he found the zipper of her dress and pulled it down. With a shrug, the thin straps slipped over her shoulders and the bodice fell away to reveal her breasts. He groaned and reached up to cup one, dragging his thumb over her nipple and watching it harden. 

Hermione could feel his arousal pressing into her core and she rolled against him. Her fingers set to work on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one until she could run her hands over his pale torso. Just when she began admiring his toned chest, he dipped his head and captured her other nipple in his lips. She sighed and arched into him, her hips never stopping their circles, desperately seeking release. 

The satin of her dress bunched up between them and she stood to let it fall to the floor, smirking at his face as he took in the sight of her in nothing but her periwinkle knickers. 

“Was this what you had in mind when you put that dress on tonight, Granger?” he teased with a smirk, reaching forward to pull her back to his lap by her hips. 

Hermione grinned as she straddled him once more. “It may have crossed my mind. No more than a passing fantasy though.” 

“Mmm…” he hummed against her throat, pressing kisses against her skin. “What else happened in this fantasy?” 

Hermione felt her cheeks burn. She never discussed her sexual desires with anyone, much less with the subject of those desires. But the firewhiskey had made her bold and his lips were blazing a hot path across her chest and setting a fire in her body and her mind. She would tell him anything—her deepest secrets—if he asked. 

“You… took me…” she breathed, burying her fingers in his platinum hair. “Fucked me here… on the couch.” 

If there was a moment for her to be embarrassed by her wanton confession, it passed quickly when he gripped her hard by the waist and twisted her—practically threw her back onto the couch. She landed with a gasp and watched as he scrambled to remove his already open shirt. Once it had been discarded on the floor, Draco lunged over her, his lips moving against hers with an urgency that made her head spin. 

Hands everywhere. Hers in his hair, on his neck, running over his chest and shoulders, pulling him down against her by the firm globes of his arse. His on her breasts, gripping her waist, clutching at her thighs, tugging at the lace of her knickers. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, grinding his hips against her aching center. 

With a gasp, Hermione pulled back so that she could pull at the buckle of his belt and zip of his trousers. He helped her before kicking off the slacks with much less grace than he typically maintained at work. 

Hermione eyed his obvious arousal, clearly visible against his trunks. 

Unbothered by her gaze, Draco reached forward and hooked his fingers on her knickers, dragging them down her legs until he dropped them on the floor. She knew she was already soaked, and her cheeks burned red as he reached forward and brushed his fingers against her. He groaned and grinned at her wolfishly. His fingers circled against her, dipping in teasingly a few times as she keened beneath him. 

“Please,” she moaned desperately. 

It seemed that he was determined to tease her longer. Fingers still brushing against her and curling inside her, he bent his head to tease her breasts with his lips and tongue. “Yes,” she gasped. The heat within her was rising, a pressure building and she was climbing ever higher. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded breathlessly. 

And then she was coming undone, her back arching off the couch as she threw her head back in utter ecstasy. She quivered and gasped, her fingernails digging into his hair until the waves of pleasure slowed and she collapsed into the cushions and closed her eyes. 

Draco moved off of her and she opened her eyes to see him standing and removing his trunks. She sat up, reaching for his perfect cock. She’d often thought about his cock and wondered what it would look like… feel like… _ taste _ like. Her fingers wrapped around him tentatively, stroking the smooth skin and brushing her thumb across the head to watch him shiver. She leaned forward to wrap her lips around him but his finger caught her chin, forcing her to look up. 

His eyes were nearly black with desire, but he shook his head. 

“You don’t want me to?” she asked, tightening her grip on him and watching his eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh, I want you to,” he chuckled. “But I’d rather fuck you here on the couch.” 

Hermione’s cheeks burned at his teasing but she smiled. 

“There will be plenty of time for that another day,” he promised, bending to kiss her deeply. 

Shivering at his promise of more nights like this one, Hermione lay back onto the couch and spread her legs as he leaned over her. He kissed her again, teasing the tip of his cock against her. “Need you,” he mumbled against her lips. 

At long last, he sank into her slowly and Hermione sighed as he filled her. She rolled her hips against him and he hissed in approval. Stilling himself within her, he bent low and covered her mouth in a searing kiss. 

And then he began to fuck her, deeply and slowly. One of his strong arms wrapped around her waist to grip her tightly while the other braced against the couch. Hermione met him each time, keening each time her clit brushed up against the base of his cock. 

His mouth left hers to drag down her neck and he let out hot puffs of air against the curls that had come loose from her updo. “Fuck,” he groaned as he filled her up once more. 

“Faster,” she demanded breathily, dancing her fingernails over his shoulders. 

He obeyed instantly, his hips pressing himself into her faster and faster until he fucked her at a punishing pace. 

No longer in control of the sounds she was making, moans tore from Hermione’s throat along with gasps and cries. And as he dipped one hand between them to circle his thumb over her sensitive clit, her nails dug into him. 

After just a few more thrusts, Hermione’s second orgasm ripped through her body and she let out a cracked cry. She was vaguely aware of Draco’s incoherent string of curses before he too came with a grunt. 

He stayed buried within her for a moment before withdrawing with a shiver and collapsing next to her and pulling her close. Brown eyes met grey as they both fought to slow their breathing. Draco’s hand moved to the nape of her neck to pull her to him again, his lips brushing hers in languid kisses. 

“What did you say about all those books in your room?” he mumbled. 

Hermione laughed. “I have a million of them.” 

“Good,” he said as she nestled against him. “Because I’m going to need a few minutes before we go again.” 

Hermione’s stomach swooped as he brushed a few wayward curls from her cheek and kissed her again.

“I’m so glad your birthday was terrible,” he chuckled against her lips. 

Hermione grinned. “Actually, it was amazing,” she admitted. “Exactly what I wanted.”


End file.
